Not About Angels

Chapter 4

"Heather? You okay?"

Heather looked up from her untouched plate - the syrup soaked waffles and unused silverware - and sighed at Joey's concerned expression. "I - I'm just not hungry." In fact, the sight of the food almost made her skin crawl. She didn't want to eat - she wanted to crawl back into her bed, burrow deep in her blankets and never surface again. But that wasn't an option. Especially now.

"No, it's fine. More for me." Joey reached over the table, stabbing the waffle with his fork and carrying it off. Taking a big bite, he gulped before asking, "So, how's Charles?"

Heather paused, not even knowing where to start. When Hank and she had arrived back at the hospital, Moira had been waiting for them with news. She had explained that Charles' surgery hadn't taken up the full 10 hour span, and he had been sent to the recovery room almost 3 hours ahead of schedule. When they had entered the room to talk to the man, he was sleepy, his blue eyes drooping and his voice slow, but there was a soft smile on his face and Heather - Heather let herself believe everything was going to be okay.

That was when the doctor had pulled them all out of the room to explain.

"...we could fix the spine..."

"...we couldn't fix the spinal cord..."

"...never walk again..."

Heather had never felt so numb in her life.

She stayed quiet for a moment, before replying slowly, hoping her voice wouldn't crack, "He - he looked good. When I saw him." Joey nodded thoughtfully at that, before asking, "What'd the doc say?" Another pause. Heather tried to breathe, but the air felt heavy, too heavy for her lungs. "He can't walk," she finally choked out.

"Jesus - "

"Let's just - not talk about it, okay?"

Joey nodded at that, and Heather couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. There was silence at their table as Joey finished his waffle and Heather finally took a sip of the coffee before her, the drink doing nothing to warm the numbness inside of her. "Now," Joey finally said, "Are you going to explain what's going on? Why were you in Cuba? Who's Erik? What exactly happened to Charles? Why are you acting so weird?"

With each question, Heather sunk farther into her chair, hoping that maybe she could disappear and avoid this conversation altogether. No luck there, as Joey was watching her like a hawk. She sighed, sitting back up, her hands nervously twisting her skirt. "You see - " She began, before trying to rethink her words. "I - There's this thing - Have you ever heard of mutants?"

Joey's eyebrows furrowed together. "Mutants?"

"People with - "

" - with mutations, yeah, yeah, I know, but what do they have to do with this?"

Heather took a deep breath, telling herself it was now or never. "I'm a mutant, Joey. And so is Charles and - and Erik." Even saying his name hurt. Joey blinked a few times, his green eyes widening, before he looked around quickly and leaned over. "You're serious?" He whispered, and Heather nodded.

"Heather, that - that's great! I wish you would have told me before, I mean, I wouldn't have been much help figuring it all out, but I guess I would have been more understanding. So - do you, like, spit fire or move stuff with your mind?"

Heather let out a loud laugh at that. "No, no, I just see dead people." Joey's eyes widened again. "Woah. That's - well, actually, that kind of makes sense. That explains the times I'd hear you talking to yourself." Heather blushed in embarrassment at that because - oh god, he probably thought she was insane for a long time - before shaking her head wildly. "Okay, okay, let's - just get off of that subject."